Let Go
by Devon Goes to Heaven
Summary: In which Beth avoids her captor. Daryl doesn't know how to deal with how he feels about her, and Beth just wants him to let go.


Disclaimer: I don't own the Walking Dead.

Chapter 1

A pair of bright yellow lights rushed in her direction. Her mind was scattered like a thousand puzzle pieces. Her legs felt heavy as her mind continued to race in circles. Her hands jittered like the end of a hissing rattle snake. Panic crawled down her skin, pricking every inch of her as if she were swarmed by thousands of wasps.

She had said she believed in people. There was a part of her that wondered if this person might help her and Daryl. She wanted to follow the words she had just spoken earlier that day, but at that moment, she couldn't leave anything to just faith.

She tore off into the woods without another minute of hesitation. Beth still believed in good people, but she just couldn't take a chance. She couldn't take a chance at losing him; not after what had just happened in the kitchen.

She hid behind a thick tree trunk, and peered around it briefly. There didn't appear to be anyone looking for her. Perhaps they didn't even bother to stop. Maybe they just went on their own way, and paid no mind to her planted in the center of the road. She let a deep sigh escape her as she allowed relief to fill her.

A branch cracked. Her breath hitched as she searched for the knife she had forgotten at the funeral home. Her heart dropped when she came to the realization that she was unarmed.

She heard the familiar groan of a walker. Her heart was felt like it was about to explode. She felt the ground for something to use. There were countless tiny twigs, leaves, but nothing that could be of use to her. Panic filled her again.

She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat as she rose to her feet. A dry, ridged breath escaped her lips as she spun in a circle, trying to find any sight of the walker.

It was directly behind her. It glossy eyes were full of hunger as it grabbed hold of her shoulders. Beth threw her hands forward, trying to push what once was probably a middle aged woman from her.

She fell onto her back. Beth despetately pushed against the walker's shoulders with all of her strength. The smell of decaying flesh filled her nostrils as the walker released a hungry, sloppy growl. Beth let out a desperate whimper as she heard the walkers teeth click together again and again. That snapping sound alone was enough to haunt anyone's nightmares forever.

She would not let herself die. She had something to live for waiting back at the funeral home. She pushed as hard as she could against the walkers shoulders. Beth drew her knees in kicked against the walker's pelvis as hard as she possibly could. The force of her kick propelled the lady walker from her, and Beth quickly climbed to her feet.

"Beth!" she heard Daryl shout.

Beth could still her the thing groan and howl in hunger. She probably should just slip away from the thing in silence. Beth didn't care. "Daryl!"

The road emerged into view, and she saw him. She managed a smile in spite of the walker tailing behind her. There eyes met for a mere second before Daryl acknowledged the walker behind her. She saw him raise his crossbow and dropped to the crusty, ridged pavement.

An arrow whistled past her, and the walker fell silent. Once she heard the walker collaspe to the ground, she pulled herself of the pavement. She dusted her jeans that now had a gapping hole near the right knee.

"I thought I told ya to meet me at the road," he scolded as he placed the crossbow on his back.

"There was a car," she said between heavy breaths. "I panicked."

As the adrenaline subsided, her ankle throbbed in pain along with her now scrapped knee. She ignored it. They had to leave. She couldn't risk running into that car again. She'd just have to suck it up for the night.

"We gotta go," Daryl said. "Place is probably full of walkers by now."

"Yeah," she breathed, not exactly looking forward to walking.

A pit in her stomach seemed to split itself open. She made a quick glance at Daryl's face, searching for whatever could be left of their conversation. The sharp feeling of disappointment seem to cut into her when he walked passed her towards the woods without even a small thought.

Beth soothed herself as she followed him. A moment ago, she was almost a walker's dinner. She should be grateful she was still alive instead of in a walker's belly, or even worse, her body cold be a lifeless walker dead set on devouring Daryl's flesh. The thought made her want to vomit.

She couldn't help her feelings from stirring inside her though. What happened in the kitchen was burned in her mind, and she just couldn't let it go. She'd never wanted someone like this. Whatever it was she felt had awoken so many new emotions for her.

She followed behind him. Maybe he felt it too. Maybe. She hoped.

* * *

When he heard her cry out to him, relief had washed over him. The moment he saw her golden hair pop out the woods with that walker in pursuit all his heart seemed to punch through his chest. For a brief moment, he thought he lost her.

He snuck a glance at her. He'd been doing that a lot since they burned that shack down. There were times he felt wrong. She was barely eighteen. He wondered what her father would think.

He watched her attempt to hide a limp. He wanted to kick himself in the head. How could he have forgotten? He was so caught up in the chaos that had just played out at the funeral home that he forgot about her wounded ankle.

He stopped and set his pack down. Beth dropped to the ground, and he could of sworn she let out a sigh of relief. He pulled the wire from his pack and began to circle it around a group of trees.

Daryl managed another glance at her as he tied down the wire. He thought back to the funeral home. The memory of her blue eyes starring up at him was still fresh in his mind.

He wasn't good at this stuff. He was used to the bar trash that he used to sleep with after a night of binge drinking with Merle. Beth was different than those women. She wasn't bitter. She hadn't become jadded and dropped her standards.

He thought of the last girl that had an ounce of decency in his life, some pretty little blonde bartender in Atlanta about seven years prior. He messed that one up real quick. He remembered the arguments he'd start after drinking. He eventually just left. He didn't even give her a proper break up. He just checked out without a phone call or an explanation.

He ran into her a year later when Merle dragged him into his favorite titty joint one night. The girl was dancing on the main stage of the Pink Pony. She locked her eyes and gave him a fridged stare. He remembered Merle laughing and jabbing Daryl in the shoulder. Merle thought it hilarious, but Daryl just blamed himself for it all. He believed if he hadn't been such a dirt bag maybe she wouldn't have ended up there.

He glanced at Beth. Her head was tilted to the ground solemly. The girl had been through enough already. She didn't need to deal with his baggage. She wasn't going to be another girl in one of his failed relationships.

She turned her head to catch him starring. He watched her lips perk up slightly. He wanted to believe she liked him too, but even if she did, he wouldn't allow it.

He sat down next to her, his legs crossed as he hunched over. She leaned her head on him and placed her hand on his. His conflicted emotions seemed to twist his insides into knots.

"This ain't smart," he finally said. He waited for her to say something, but she remained silent. "This thing between us ain't gonna do nothin' but cause trouble. You were at the farm with Rick and Lori. You know..."

She pulled herself away from him, and he watched as pulled her arms around herself. Her voice cracked as she whispered, "I'm not Lori, and you're not Rick."

He was taken aback by her answer. He wasn't one hundred percent sure of how she felt, but he had never expected her to be so forward about how she felt for him. He watched a trail of tears run down her eyes. Her eyes were dry as a desert when her boyfriends were torn apart, but she couldn't even handle him rejecting her.

"Don't do this," she pleaded. He watched her tighten her arms around herself as she tilted her face from him in some attempt to hid her tears. "You know you feel it too."

He tried to lie to her. He opened his mouth to deny his feelings. He couldn't bring himself to do so. She finally managed to look at him, her face was wet with tears. He couldn't lie; not when she looked at him like that.

She leaned into him again, pressing herself close to him. He couldn't push her away. His hand seemed to have a life of it's own and wrapped itself around her waist.

"I'm no good for you, Beth," he warned as fleeting thoughts of his past filled his head.

"You're not that person anymore," she pressed her hands to his chest and starred into his eyes. "You won't hurt me."

He tried to pull himself from her soft, pleading blue eyes. His left hand brushed a strand of blonde hair from her face as his right hand held her waist. He kissed her lips for only a moment.

"Go to sleep, Beth," he said as he pulled away.

She curled up into a ball on the ground as he got up to retrieve the blue tarp from his pack. He placed the tarp on top of her. After tucking her in, he fumbled into his pocket for his cigarettes.

He snatched one and lit it absentmindedly with a match. He drew in a long drag and released. He could hear the tarp crinkle as she rolled over to face him.

"Goodnight," she whispered.

"Night," he said as he let out another breath of gray smoke into the air.

He wasn't sure how long he could stop himself; not when she made it so clear she wanted him just as badly. He took in another breath of smoke. He wouldn't dare leave her alone either. That was out of the question.

He remembered Lori and Rick. He made good on staying out of all that. He could've cared less about their problems, but when she died, Rick lost it. He wondered how he'd handle losing her. The world they lived in had a habit of taking people from him, and the closer he got to her would only make it harder when that day came.

"Shit," he whispered as he blew a cloud of smoke into the humid Georgia air.

TBC


End file.
